


I Found A Martyr In My Bed Tonight

by orphan_account



Category: Castle, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Consensual Infidelity, Multi, Sexual Content, basically Dean and Kate are a pair of deplorable bastards in this, or what they do, there is absolutely nothing redeeming about either of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-22
Updated: 2013-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-03 05:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s always been her to go to person to help take the edge off when Castle can’t, but he can’t do it and pretend that there’s not feelings involved in it anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Found A Martyr In My Bed Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littleartemis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleartemis/gifts), [hpautumngrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpautumngrl/gifts).



> This is not a happy fic. Like, I don’t know who this was for, but it’s not happy. And Dean is a bit of a bastard at the end, but yeah… Title is from the song Some Nights by Fun. I found it oddly appropriate.

She tastes like him. She tastes like high end whiskey and smells like old books. If he were a smarter man, he’d get the hell out of there and never come back. But he’s not a smarter man. He’s Dean fucking Winchester and according to everyone that knows him, his smarts left the building a long ass time ago. It probably helps that Kate is one of the best fucking lays of his life, because if she wasn’t, he would’ve been long fucking gone by now.

She’s frustrated tonight; it shows in the tense line of her shoulder and the firm set of her mouth. She’s frustrated, Castle is probably the fucking cause, and she just wants to take it out on someone that she knows can take it.

Which is where he comes in.

He has her back against the door and his mouth on hers before she really knows what’s happening, but she just goes with it anyways, because this is always how it is when they come together like this. They barely break apart to take off clothes and they somehow find their way to the couch, which isn’t exactly ideal for this, but it doesn’t matter. And Dean isn’t exactly lying when he thinks that this makes it easier on both of them. A bed makes this all seem like something it’s not and that’s the last thing either of them need at the moment.

The moment he hits the couch, Kate is on her knees, licking a stripe up his cock before closing her mouth around the head and sucking on it, which makes Dean groan. There’s not a lot of women alive who know what buttons to push to get him to fall apart, but Kate is one of them that does and she’s not afraid to push them.

And push them she does. He’s been known to come from a damn good blowjob, but she gets him to that point so fast, that it makes him wonder if she’s been practicing. He won’t deny that a flare of jealousy goes through him at that though. Kate’s not his, not even close, but the thought of her on her knees for someone that’s not him makes him mad. It makes him want to mark her and claim her as his own, which just shows him that he’s really gotten too damn deep into this thing they have. He doesn’t even realize that she’s pulled off of him, until she climbs into his lap and catches his mouth in a bruising kiss, pulling him back into the present and to what he has right in front of him.

He starts fumbling around for the table next to them, where he knows she has a roll of condoms stashed, but she grabs his hand and stops him. He lets his other hand slip up into her hair and pulls her head back, just enough so he can look her in the eye.

“Kate, be smart about this.” She swallows, but doesn’t let go his other hand.

“Dean, I just…I need you.” Hand in hair notwithstanding, she leans back in for another kiss and he knows that he’s lost. This is all Kate’s show and he’s just a spectator in it. So he moves his other hand away from the table and wraps it around her waist, pulling her closer to him, so that she can slide down right onto his cock, their kiss breaking while they both just share the air between them. He untangles the hand from her hair to grip her hips, waiting for her signal to move.

It comes in the form of a soft “please”, more like a breath of air rather than a word, but it works for him as his hands tighten on her hips, before he pulls her off his cock and flips her onto her back, on the couch. The change in position clearly surprises her, but before she can protest, he’s sliding back in and mouthing at her neck, wishing he could bite down and mark her as his. The slow pace he’s moving at has her frustrated and cursing his name, she wants fast and furious, she wants to be fucked so well that she forgets the name of Richard Castle for a few minutes, but he can’t do that. He wants to savor his time with Kate, which is something he hasn’t done with a woman since Cassie, so if that frustrates her, she’ll just have to deal.

“You know how good you look like this Kate? Spread out on your back and begging for it…” She thumps him on the shoulder for that and tries to thrust her hips and gain some leverage, but he doesn’t let her. “Nope, this is my show today baby. If you didn’t want this, then you shouldn’t have called me. Should’ve stayed with Castle, maybe he would given you the fucking you’re so clearly looking for.” Dean gives a particular hard thrust after that, making Kate cry out and dig her nails into his back.

“Dean, come on, don’t…” But he cuts her off with a kiss, he doesn’t want to hear her protest that it isn’t like that when he knows that it is. He feels her nails dig in even deeper, almost to the point where he swears that she’s drawing blood. But he doesn’t care, he’s tired of being used by her when she needs to work out her frustration from being around Writer Boy all day, and he’s going to prove that to her. His pace becomes almost bruising after that and he starts biting his way down her neck from her mouth, marking her, claiming her like he’s wanted to for years now, but it’s still not enough. He takes one hand from where it’s holding down her hips and moves it so that he can brush his thumb over her clit and that’s what does it. She breaks apart just like that, sobbing his name as she comes around him.

He bites down at the junction of her shoulder and neck one last time as he feels himself start to lose control and come as well. Even while in his post-orgasm high, he can feel her nails loosing from his back and and slipping down to his shoulders as she just barely clings to him in the aftermath of her own orgasm. Dean eventually comes back to himself, letting go of her neck and hips, vaguely realizing that there are going to be marks and bruises left behind in both areas, but not really caring since he won’t be around to witness the fallout. He slides out of her, hissing softly while he does, but she still gives no sign of life beyond the soft rise and fall of her chest. Dean just sits there on the couch for a moment and watches Kate, waiting for her to say something or to give some other hint that she’s still there with him, instead of off on some distant planet of her mind that he can’t reach.

“Sorry for all the biting.” That gets a snort out of her, cause she knows that he doesn’t mean it, but at least he’s trying. “I should probably go, shouldn’t I?” Kate finally hefts herself up onto her elbows to look at him and there’s just something in the way that she’s staring him down that makes him uncomfortable, like she can see past every damn wall he’s put up, and it frankly annoys the living hell out of him.

“Yeah, you probably should. Cas has probably called you a million and one times by now. You know, a beer run isn’t supposed to take almost an hour.” Dean rolls his eyes but gets up and roots around her tiny kitchen for a rag to clean himself up with before dropping it on her, so that he can go back to the kitchen and grab his clothes. He doesn’t go back to the living room to put them on, cause honestly, that would make it too damn easy for him to just forget about them and crawl back onto the couch with her and pretend that the pair of them aren’t deceiving the people they love right under their noses. So when he goes back out of the living room to grab his keys (and god fucking knows how they landed out there), he’s fully clothed and she’s pulling on some ridiculous bathrobe thing that looks like something Cas would wear (the ex-angel has shit for taste in clothes), and you can barely tell that less than 10 minutes ago, they were rutting on the couch like a pair of animals.

“We probably shouldn’t do this again, should we?” Kate gives him a sad smile and that’s his answer. He shrugs like it means nothing to him, like it just wasn’t a good fuck and that’s it. “Well, see you around then Kate.” He doesn’t kiss her goodbye or do anything else that one would usually do after what they just did, instead, he gives her a sarcastic two finger salute and turns for the door, grabbing his leather jacket off the floor as he goes.

And once he’s in the safety of the Impala, he turns his phone back on and sees that there’s two missed calls from Cas and a text from Sam that says that he better not being doing what his brother thinks that he is. Rolling his eyes and deleting the message from Sam, he pulls his car out onto the road and hits the call button next to Castiel’s name.

“Hey babe, what’s up? You wouldn’t believe the fucking traffic around here.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love and never hesitate to remind me that no, I didn't need to write this and be a terrible human being. :)


End file.
